Ah... it’s been days. My funds are drying up. Panic first, then plan: I need work—now.

I’ve been holed up in a cheap hotel, turning one thought over like a stone in a river: should I tell Xuewei who I am? That tiny choice ate days, gnawing at me till the answer surfaced cold.

I can’t.

First, Xuewei might not believe me. If I walk up and say, “Xuewei, I’m your long-lost big brother, ya~,” she’ll peg me as a nutcase, blacklist me, maybe hand me to a clinic in a white coat.

Second, even if I stack reasons and proof till the sky tilts, I’ve lied to her for so long. Would she let me go? Back when I left, she was almost as strong as me. Now she’s probably a storm I can’t outrun. I know her heart’s weather. She’d smile and murmur, “Brother… how cruel, vanishing for a dozen years and leaving me alone… I guess I’ll just lock you up, so you won’t run, eh-hehe… No matter how you change, it’s fine, as long as you stay by Xuewei’s side.” And then that shadow would flare: “That damned woman—! She dared steal my brother. I’ll kill her, kill her, kill her…” If those two meet, sparks become blades.

Third, say Xuewei forgives me. Her temper would never spare Dreamsound. They’d fight anyway. I’m too weak to stop it. I can’t stand between those tides.

So I must not expose myself to Xuewei. I set that vow like a seal in my chest.

Money first. Survival first. I could register as an adventurer and take a few jobs. That’s how I started back then. Let’s see what the city offers now.

I follow old memories to the Adventurers’ Guild of Starfate City. Back then it was a plain hall. Now it’s a leviathan of glass and stone. Vast exchange floors hum like beehives. Cutting-edge magitech blinks and sings. My horizons get blown wide like dawn over mountains. I’d only heard of gear like this. Now it’s real. Ten-plus years—times have turned a page.

I head straight to the central desk. The receptionist smiles at me like spring sunlight. “Big sis,” I say softly, “I want to apply as an adventurer.”

She’s a very beautiful woman of the Elf Clan. Glossy golden hair sheets down her back like poured light. Her pale-green eyes are clear as autumn water. Slim, pointed ears peek through her hair and twitch now and then. A porcelain face carries a faint, gentle smile.

Her voice is warm as tea. “Sorry, little one. You’re too young. This job doesn’t suit you.”

Yeah, right. If I hadn’t been forced under thirteen to make a living as an adventurer, I might buy that.

“I’m here to train… Mom said I should try adventuring first. Said I should see the world… If I go back like this, I’ll be in trouble…” I bow my head and show a tangled, helpless look.

Hmph. Auntie, don’t think I don’t know how to deal with you. I know your kinks like song lyrics. You were working here when I was thirteen, weren’t you?

“Mm!” The receptionist blushes and claps a hand over her nose. HP -9999.

“Sorry, little one, I lost composure. I’ll grab a tissue—” Another clerk nearby shoots her a disdainful look.

“Little one, ignore that per—meow—vert,” the new clerk says, brisk and steady. “You’re old enough to register, but it’s dangerous. If you insist, you’ll need to show ID first.”

Not good. I’m off the grid. Papers? Impossible.

The Elf Clan receptionist notices my hitch and says kindly, “It’s for your safety, sweetie. If you register, your family can find you through Guild records—what missions you take, where you check in. Our Guildmaster pushed this to lower the risks for minors. There are too many now, and too many accidents…”

“I… I’m an orphan.” I drop my head, letting the word ache.

Sorry, Dreamsound. I’m sacrificing you for cover this once. I’ll bring you a resurrection set next time, sworn.

“…” The receptionist’s lips part. From my clothes and bearing she’d assumed I was a noble girl on a parent-sanctioned trial. But an orphan? Noble daughters don’t say that; they wear their lineage like crests.

She sighs. “You can register without a formal record, but little one, are you sure?” Her tone firms like a hand on a door. “Without help, adventuring is very dangerous. Many kids like you tried to feed their families this way. Most endings weren’t… good.”

“But I heard a super-strong Hero started at thirteen, ya~.” My clear-little-loli gaze stings her conscience. She almost can’t crush the sugar of my dream.

“He died in the end.”

“…” As a Hero, thanks for the cautionary tale. I’m sorry.

“People with no support rarely fare well as adventurers. So, little one—do you still want this?”

I don’t, either! Will you feed me if I don’t?

“Mm.”

“All right…” She has no choice. Rules are rules. She guides me through the registration.

Fine. I’ll register, take a few brutal jobs, clear them in one go, then stop haunting this counter every day.

“Here’s your card, sweetie. Since it’s your first time, your rank is Beginner. I suggest simple tasks—like gathering mushrooms at the mountain’s foot…”

“Thanks, big sis, but I’ve got my own plans.” No way I’m wasting time for pennies.

I drift to the Beginner’s board. I skim it and sigh. What is this??

“Help clear weeds from farmland. Reward: 30 iron coins; EXP +5. Client: ***.” One day’s labor, not enough for one decent meal.

“Find the lost Wangcai. Reward: 5 gold coins; EXP +20. Client: ***.” Sounds decent—hold up. Wangcai is—? WTF. Who’s taking that? Five gold just to feed the whole village?

“Subjugate the Demon King. Teach her a lesson. Reward: 1 gold coin; EXP +999. Client: ****.”

Huh? This is a Beginner quest? One gold? No wonder so many unattended kids die. Screw you, Guildmaster.